


Ghosts of Us

by wherehopelies



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fighting, Reference to death, References to Drugs, it ends happy i swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 18:08:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6577006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wherehopelies/pseuds/wherehopelies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She looks back up at Raven’s eyes, the depth in them darker and more mysterious than the ghost that visits her in sleep, the one who’s been haunting her for weeks, the reason she said yes to this in the first place when she knows better. She knows it’s the worst idea in the book, knows Icarus fell because he wanted too much. And still, she doesn’t stop herself."</p><p>Anya fights in order to pay off some old debts. It seems like things are going fine, but when she meets Raven Reyes, things get a little more complicated. Side Clexa. Episodes of violence. Mentions of drugs and mentions of death. Angsty but THEY ALIVE DAMMIT!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghosts of Us

**Author's Note:**

> TW: VIOLENCE, DRUG MENTION, DEATH MENTION.

There’s a quote she read once: _Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you._

It always comes to her in the moments before a fight. She stares into the eyes of the woman across from her, glancing into the abyss of yearning and reason. She sees the drive there, the one goal they all share in common:

Knock each other’s lights out.

She always wonders if their reasons for this are the same as hers. Old debts? The thrill of the fight? Deep-rooted anger? Or something else.

The rules are simple.

No biting. No eye-gauging. No hair pulling.

If someone taps out, or passes out, the one left standing wins.

It’s not exactly legal, but in her experience, nothing good ever is.

//

“Faster, faster… Don’t leave your left open! Pick it up! Arm _up_ , Anya! POW!”

He hits her lightly in the face with his glove and she lurches back, annoyed.

Lincoln is a good trainer and she hates him for it.

She clenches her jaw, grinding her teeth into her mouth guard.

“Again,” she huffs, and he bends low as she goes on the offensive. He feints, but she blocks his secondary attack and jabs low with her right. He counters with his left and she spins away from it before kicking her leg out and digging her foot into his chest. He grunts with exertion and waves her off.

“Enough for today.” He throws his blockers down and she goes into her cool-down while he grabs his phone off the bench near them. “Monday, we’ll do gloves and weights, alright?”

She nods, still catching her breath as she stretches her legs out against the wall.

“Party tomorrow?” He looks at her and she stares back, an unspoken question lingering between them. “Lexa and Clarke and Octavia,” he answers.

She thinks about the fight she has later tonight and shrugs. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.”

“Good deal.”

He waves goodbye and she starts the slow process of untaping her hands.

//

She’s just doing it for the money.

That’s what she tells herself, anyway.

She tries to pretend she doesn’t feel some kind of satisfaction when her fist connects with someone’s jawbone, tries to pretend she doesn’t feel some kind of reprieve when her own back slams against the floor and she sees lights, a kaleidoscope of pain and adrenaline cracking behind her eyelids.

She’s up almost as soon as she’s down, pushing. She spits the taste of blood from her mouth and lunges forward.

It’s over too soon and she tries to pretend she’s not disappointed.

She doesn’t always win.

But tonight she does.

//

The money is in her safe before she even turns her lights on.

If someone told her when she was young that this was going to be her life, she wouldn’t have believed them. But she had higher hopes for herself at sixteen, before the real world bared its fanged teeth at her.

Now she lives in a closet-sized apartment, mattress on the floor, her safe the most expensive thing in the room.

Long story short, if she gets robbed and her safe doesn’t hold, she’s dead.

Literally.

//

She goes through her post-fight routine as she always does.

Food, pain-killers. Ice. Lots of ice.

She never looks at the damage until morning.

Everything looks better when the sun comes up.

//

Lincoln texts her about the party.

She stares at her reflection in the mirror. Just a little purple around the eye, and her lip is busted again.

She responds that she’ll go.

They say diamonds are a girl’s best friend, but maybe whoever said that didn’t rely on concealer as much as she does.

//

The party is dark and gritty. Not really her sister’s normal taste, but she guesses that girl will follow Clarke anywhere.

Lame.

Lincoln passes her a beer when they find the kitchen. It’s cold and wet with condensation and she resists the urge to press it to her split lip, which seems to be pulsing to the EDM blasting around them.

She’s grateful for the dark and she feels her comfort levels spike as she realizes nobody can get a good look at her face or question why she’s dressed too casual in a black tank top and jeans.

Clarke screams something about finding her friend who’s supposed to meet up with them. She doesn’t like strangers, but she trusts Clarke more than she trusts most people, and the party is almost too loud for socializing.

She doesn’t talk much anyway.

//

They go to the dance floor, but she’s not feeling it so she lingers by the wall with her beer. Sometimes she questions why she ever comes to these things, but she thinks there’s a sense of beauty in feeling lost in a crowd, of nobody knowing your name or seeing your face.

A crowd like this has no responsibilities, no obligations, no debts.

Everyone is in free-fall. At least for a few hours. The thought is comforting in ways she’s not sure she can describe.

//

There’s a group huddling near the place she’s hovering and a small twinge in her stomach tells her to scram.

She stays put and looks over in their direction.

Between the convulsing of the green and pink lights around them, she doesn’t miss the flashing of a baggie being passed from hand to hand. Her stomach turns.

She looks away, digging her nails into her palms, but they’re too blunt to do any damage. She feels the taste of copper in her throat. Her body jolts involuntarily, half of it being pulled toward the group like a coin to a magnet, the other half already bolting out the door.

She blinks, the lights around her suddenly making her feel dizzy and she tries to choke back the overwhelming nausea swimming in her stomach.

Before she can register what she’s doing, she’s pushed her way through a mass of people and almost trips out the back door and onto the porch.

The air feels good against her sweaty skin as she gulps in as much oxygen as her lungs can handle. Her body convulses with shivers and she presses her hand against the brick of the house to steady herself.

“You need some help?”

She waves the hand still holding her beer in the direction of the voice without looking up. Her head stops spinning and she continues to breathe deeply, willing her body to cooperate for once in her life.

Something chilled presses against her wrist, and she snaps her head to look at it. Someone’s holding a bottle of water to her skin and her eyes flick up to see a girl, probably around her age, offering it to her with a raised eyebrow.

“Haven’t opened it yet,” the girl says and Anya goes to decline, but her throat feels raw. She hesitates, and the girl rolls her eyes before taking the beer from her hand and handing her the water.

It feels like ice when she takes a few gulps, and she shivers again, but her head clears enough that she can stand up straight. She turns around and rests her back against the wall she’d been leaning on.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, and she means it.

This party was a stupid idea. She shouldn’t have come.

“These things can get crazy, huh?” The girl says with a wry grin. “I’ve been waiting out here for my friend to meet me for five minutes and I’ve already seen two girls puke and one dude be carried out to the car. I think his friends just dumped him in the backseat and came back to the party.” The girl snorts and takes a sip of the beer she’d taken from Anya in exchange for the water.

Anya licks her lips. “Some friends.”

The girl laughs and leans against the wall next to her. Anya finds herself watching her, trying to get a read on her. The girl shoves her left hand into the pocket of her red jacket and pulls out her phone. “Yeah, well, mine aren’t doing much better. They were supposed to come get me, but they’re probably too busy eating face.” She tilts her head in Anya’s direction. “And yours are nowhere in sight.”

The girl takes another swig of the stolen beer and Anya watches her dark eyes move across the tiny yard surrounding them before focusing back on her. They study her curiously, and Anya shifts uncertainly, unable to look away.

_And if you gaze into the abyss long enough, the abyss will gaze back._

She shivers again.

“Well I better go find my friends since they’re clearly not coming out for me.” The girl thins her lips in annoyance. “You good?”

She nods. The girl smirks a little and lifts Anya’s beer in a salute. Then she pushes off the wall and through the back door of the house, disappearing in the party without a backward glance.

Anya has the urge to follow, but by now she knows a bad idea when it’s looking her in the face.

She shoots a text to her sister and hops the small fence around the yard, hoping Lexa won’t be too mad at her for ditching out.

Well, she thinks, it’s nothing new.

//

The girl from the party haunts her.

When she’s trying to sleep, Anya sees her dark eyes swimming behind her eyelids, a pooling abyss calling her to dive in.

She’s a ghost in the depths of her thoughts, lingering like smoke in the air, mixing with the constant and distant yearning for a high she gave up not long enough ago.

//

She meets Titus on a Sunday, as she always does.

The money in her pocket would be enough to secure her four months of rent in a house three times nicer than the shoebox she lives in now.

She thinks about it sometimes. Considers running. Just disappearing. How far would she have to go where she wouldn’t be worth chasing?

It’s a nice thought. She’ll never do it.

Things are never that easy.

//

The thing is, if she keeps winning, she could be free of this in nine months. A year tops.

But then what?

She has no special skills, no degree, not even one applicable job to put on a resume? She wasted four years of her life to Titus and three trying to pay him back.

She doesn’t know anything else.

//

She sees the girl again.

Or, she sees her ghost again. She hovers in front of Anya’s eyes, blurring her vision and distracting her.

She feels a pain in her jaw and her back hits the floor.

The girl disappears, leaving Lincoln’s face looming in the space above her.

“What was _that_?” He asks, reaching down a hand to lift her up. “I’ve never got a hit in so easily. What were you thinking?”

She shakes him off, pulling her mouth guard out and massaging at her jaw. “Got distracted,” she mutters, and he looks at her like she’s been possessed.

Annoyance heats her cheeks. She needs to focus.

They train for another hour before calling it a day.

She doesn’t get distracted again.

//

Lexa forces her to come over for dinner every Wednesday. She’s not going to say no to Lexa’s cooking, but she secretly loathes the ritual.

She never feels comfortable, always itching to bolt from the cleanliness of her and Clarke’s apartment and their perfect life. She hates the small talk, the put-together smiles of all of them, Clarke and Lexa and Lincoln and Octavia.

She doesn’t hate being alone, but she hates that _they_ hate the idea of her being alone.

It takes her two minutes outside their door to psych herself up for it every week.

They’re still cooking when she gets there, but Clarke stops tossing the salad to give her a tight hug like she always does. It makes her uncomfortable, but she doesn’t hate it.

She and Lexa were never huggers growing up, but Anya doesn’t get much human contact these days that doesn’t come in the form of a fist.

“I brought wine,” she says stiffly, holding up the brown bag as Clarke lets go of her.

“Oh, this will go great with the chicken,” Clarke beams at her. “Lincoln and Octavia should be here any minute, along with Raven.”

She meets Lexa’s eyes questioningly. “Clarke’s friend. She came to the party last week, but you had already left.” It’s not an accusation, just acceptance, and Anya feels a slight flash of guilt in her stomach.

She just nods.

A few minutes later, there’s a knock at the door. She moves to answer it, but Octavia and Lincoln breeze in before she gets the chance, a girl following behind them at a slower pace.

Anya freezes.

She thinks she’s seeing a ghost.

“Hey,” the girl from the party says. “I know you. Hottie from the party.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Hottie?”

The girl grins and offers her an apologetic shrug as Clarke bounds out of the kitchen to pull the girl into a hug.

“Anya this is Raven, Raven this is Lexa’s sister, Anya.”

Her ghost – Raven – smirks at her. “Lexa’s sister? Of course.”

“Oh, leave her alone, Raven,” Octavia calls from the kitchen.

“I didn’t do anything!”

“Well I’m sure you will,” Clarke mutters.

The girl just grins.

//

She ends up sitting next to Raven at dinner. Her entire body is on edge, but Lexa seems to notice and doesn’t try to get her to join in on the conversation. At one point after dinner, Octavia pulls a pie out of nowhere as a surprise, and she and Lincoln work to serve it up for them. Clarke and Lexa whisper something to each other, their heads bowed together.

Anya sips at her wine quietly.

“They sure do make you hate this kind of shit,” Raven says lowly, and Anya follows her eyes to where Lexa is holding out her fork to Clarke, a bite of pie perched on the end.

She snorts.

“Try doing this every week,” she mutters. Raven grins at her and she feels herself relax a little as Lincoln passes them some pie.

“Can’t be all bad,” Raven pushes out between bites. “Food was good.”

Anya rolls her eyes. “That’s the only reason I still come to these things.”

“Well now you have two reasons.”

She tilts her head in question. “What’s the second one?”

“Me, obviously.” Raven’s eyes shine playfully and Anya shakes her head.

“Yeah, we’ll see.”

Raven grins. Anya pretends her stomach isn’t somersaulting.

//

Now that her ghost has a name, she’s been appearing in her dreams.

Sometimes she wakes up in the morning, pulling herself from the murky depths of her subconscious, and feels her heart beating too hard.

She doesn’t remember much about the dreams, but when she’s staring at herself in the mirror as she brushes her teeth, Raven’s eyes stare back.

//

“So, you’re not on Facebook.”

Anya looks up from her cards, having been roped into playing Texas Hold ‘Em after dinner the next week.

Raven’s slumped in the chair next to her at the table, apparently bored with the game happening. “I fold,” Anya says and turns toward the girl. “I’m not really into social media.”

“I fold, too.” Raven grins at her. “Yeah, I noticed.”

She doesn’t really know what to say so she waits.

Raven taps her fingers on the table. “No Facebook, no Instagram.” Anya raises her eyebrows in question. “I looked you up.”

“Why’s that?”

Raven shrugs. “Well how else am I supposed to contact a girl in this day and age?”

She rolls her eyes and bites back her grin. “Ask for her number?”

“Oh, you overestimate me,” Raven says. “And risk rejection?” She shakes her head. “I don’t think so.”

“So brave,” Anya teases, throwing her cards back to Lincoln as they finish the round.

Raven lets out a low laugh. “I got brains and beauty, not bravery.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

Raven looks at her, her eyes sweeping up from the table to meet Anya’s gaze. Anya bites the inside of her cheek, feeling unsettled but intrigued, wondering why this girl of all people has gotten under her skin.

“Anya, are you betting or what?”

She snaps her eyes to Octavia.

“Fold.”

She doesn’t look at her cards.

The moment passes.

//

She decides to head out a little after that.

It feels like a bad idea that she might end up regretting, but she scribbles her number on a scrap of paper and leaves it on the table by where she was sitting.

She doesn’t say anything.

Fate can decide.

//

 **Unknown Number (Today 10:33pm):** You know this would’ve been a lot easier if you had Facebook

 **You (Today 10:35pm):** Not happening.

 **Raven (Today 10:36pm):** Instagram?

 **You (Today 10:38pm):** Why, are you gonna ‘slide into my DMs’?

 **Raven (Today 10:39pm):** Well else how was I gonna ask Hottie From The Party out?

 **You (Today 10:42pm):** Is this your idea of a romantic gesture?

 **Raven (Today 10:44pm):** Is it working?

 **You (Today 10:46pm):** No

 **Raven (Today 10:48pm):** Saturday? 7:00?

 **You (Today 11:32pm):** Fine.

 **You (Today 11:32pm):** Nothing fancy.

//

She wins her fight on Friday, but barely.

She’s distracted, and it almost costs her when the other girl gets in a good kick to her ribs.

Her payout doesn’t feel like nearly enough when she falls into her bed later that night, her right side already a deep purple.

She ignores a text from Lexa and one from Lincoln in favor of downing a quarter of a bottle of NyQuil and passing out for twelve hours.

//

Raven texts her an address and tells her to dress as comfortable as she wants.

She wears jeans and a plain t-shirt. Her side hurts like a bitch and she doesn’t have the energy to try to look that nice.

When she gets to the address, she raises her eyebrows skeptically, but makes her way inside. A bell overhead tingles and Raven pops her head through a door behind the front desk.

“Do you always take your first dates to the auto-shop?”

“No, but most of them greet me with hello.” Raven smirks and disappears back through the door. “Come on. I have pizza.”

She follows Raven through the door and into the garage. There’s a few cars on jacks and the entire place smells of rubber.

It’s obviously _super_ romantic.

She finds Raven near an older red Mustang. She has on a hoodie and her jeans have small spots of grease here and there and holes in the knees. There’s a box of pizza on the hood of the car and Raven’s fiddling with something in a large box of tools.

“Nice car,” she notices, and Raven looks up with a grin.

“I don’t want to brag, but this is probably the most wonderful car I’ve ever touched.” As if to back up her point, Raven slides her fingers across the hood delicately.

She raises an eyebrow sarcastically. “Impressive,” she says wryly.

“Anya, don’t insult my baby.” Raven leans down near the car and speaks to it in an exaggerated whisper. “Don’t listen to her, she doesn’t know what she’s saying.”

She twists her lips, trying not to smile. “Okay, I was promised pizza.”

“Ah yes,” Raven nods, opening the pizza box with a flourish. “I wasn’t sure what you like so I splurged a little and got,” she holds a slice up, “extra cheese.”

Anya grins and takes the slice from Raven’s hand. She takes a bite and pretends to contemplate it. “Wow. Gourmet.”

“Only the best for the lady.” Raven holds up her own slice in salute. “Okay, so I know this isn’t the most romantic scenery…” Raven sets her slice back in the box and bends down to dig through the toolbox again.

Anya waits for the ‘but’, but it never comes. “But…”

Raven ignores her for a moment before emerging from the toolbox triumphantly with something in her hand. “Just wait, I swear you’re going to think it’s cool.” She points the device in her hand in the air and there’s a beeping sound, followed by a loud whirring.

Anya looks behind her to see a projector mounted on the wall several feet up. She follows the direction it’s pointing, her eyebrows raising involuntarily when the previews to a movie start projecting on the opposite wall.

“You know they have this thing called drive-in movie theatres,” she says, watching as Raven goes to put the top of the Mustang down.

“Okay, but their movie selection is crap and you have to deal with all of the _other_ people there.” Raven smiles triumphantly as the top clicks into place. She opens the car door and leans the seat forward, gesturing for Anya to hop into the back. “And also…” She sighs forlornly. “I’m contractually not allowed to drive the cars off the property.”

Anya snorts and climbs into the back of the car, sliding over so her bruised side is against the door. Raven follows her with the box of pizza. The backseat is surprisingly spacious and she pulls her legs under her to get more comfortable.

“So what are we watching?”

“Well you seem like the type to be into Katherine Heigl, so I was thinking _27 Dresses_.” Raven raises an eyebrow and takes a bite of pizza. “Borrowed it from Clarke.”

Anya is not amused. “Really.”

Raven smirks. “No.” She holds the remote up and the image on the wall jumps to the menu screen for _Jupiter Ascending_. “You like sci-fi?”

“I heard this movie was crap.” Anya tilts her head to the side and takes a bite of her pizza.

“You heard wrong.” Raven stares at the screen, straight-faced. “It’s the greatest movie of our time.”

“Huh.” Anya smirks a little. “And what if it’s crap?”

Raven shrugs. “Well then clearly we’re not meant to be and you can leave.” Raven avoids looking at her for a second, then she grins hugely over in Anya’s direction before letting out a small laugh.

Anya smiles at that. “Well, then, by all means.” She gestures for Raven to hit play and sinks further into the seat.

//

She was right, the movie is crap.

And she enjoys every second of it.

//

“I knew you’d like it,” Raven points at her afterward, tossing their almost-finished box of pizza out of the car and onto the floor of the garage.

“I knew it’d be crap.” She leans back against the door of the car to face Raven. “There were plot holes every five minutes.”

“Okay but you still liked it.”

“It was okay.”

“Liar.”

She rolls her eyes, but smiles a little in defeat. “Anything is better than _27 Dresses_.”

Raven grins. “Clarke _likes_ that movie.”

“Well, she would.” She shakes her head. “How do you know Clarke anyway?”

“Hmm.” Raven hums. “We met in undergrad. We shared a boyfriend.”

She blinks. “You shared him?”

“He was cheating on us.” Raven rolls her eyes. “She saw some messages and looked me up on Facebook.” She grins. “You know in Harry Potter when they fight the mountain troll and become friends? Well there are some things that you can’t experience with another person and not become best friends and apparently confronting your cheating boyfriend is one of them.”

“He sounds like a douche.”

 “He was, but also he wasn’t. It’s complicated. I’m over it.” Raven shrugs in a way that tells Anya she might not be over it. “Okay so do you think this car has a good sound system or what?”

Raven leans between the front seats and turns the car on, fiddling with the stereo. She turns the volume low and returns to the backseat, settling more in the middle, closer to Anya.

“So, what about you? Lexa says you don’t date.”

Anya scowls. “Lexa should mind her own business.”

“I asked.” Raven shrugs when Anya shoots her a questioning look. “Listen, I told you this would’ve been easier if you had Facebook.”

She rolls her eyes. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re kind of obnoxious?” She feels her lips twitch when Raven smiles like this is the best compliment anyone has ever given her.

“So leave then.”

It’s a challenge and she knows it, and it makes her heartbeat quicken with anticipation, heat flooding in her stomach. Her gaze flickers down to Raven’s lips and she wants to kiss her, has the distinct sensation that she already has in her dreams.

She looks back up at Raven’s eyes, the depth in them darker and more mysterious than the ghost that visits her in sleep, the one who’s been haunting her for weeks, the reason she said yes to this in the first place when she knows better.

She knows it’s the worst idea in the book, knows Icarus fell because he wanted too much. And still, she doesn’t stop herself.

There’s a hesitance in the moment before their lips connect, a suspense that builds the desire in her stomach. She closes her eyes, feeling Raven’s fingers on her neck in the beat before their lips touch.

It’s softer than she expected and Raven scoots closer to her on the bench of the backseat of the car to deepen the kiss. Her fingers drift up Anya’s neck, tangling in the hair there. Her own hand grips Raven’s knee, the other finding purchase on the seat of the car, the leather sticky under her palm.

She feels an unfamiliar beat of nervousness in her throat when their lips come apart for a brief second, Raven tilting her head in the other direction before kissing her deeper. Her cheeks get hot and her stomach coils with tension, pleasure coursing through her body in ways similar to how it does before a fight, but not quite the same.

A small gasp escapes her lips and she tries to inhale, pushing Raven backward softly until she’s settled on her back, her legs bracketing Anya’s hips.

“You just wanted to make out in the back of this car.” She leans closer, her hair falling over her shoulders and around Raven’s face. “Fulfill some long-awaited fantasy of yours.”

Raven grins back at her, her fingers playing with the ends of Anya’s hair. “That wasn’t my idea here, but I can’t pretend I hadn’t thought about it.”

She pauses, eyes roaming over Raven’s face, admiring the perfect crook of her eyebrows, the infuriating tilt of her smirk. She’s beautiful, and dangerous, and Anya loves it.

Leaning lower, she brings her lips back to Raven’s, relishing the way her good sense runs away from her and takes her heart with it. She shivers when Raven’s tongue makes contact with her own, and bumps erupt on her arms when Raven trails her fingertips over the skin on her back where her shirt has ridden up.

Pleasure pools in her stomach, hot and sudden. She shifts her weight so more of her body comes into contact with Raven’s. Raven’s fingers trace up her spine lightly, crawling farther up her shirt. Her other hand skims across the waistband of Anya’s jeans and around to her side. Raven’s exploration is gentle, but pain immediately flares up when she touches the bruise on Anya’s ribs.

She flinches and pulls back.

Raven’s eyes fly open. “Shit. What? Did I go too fast?”

“No, I – ” She pauses, trying to get a grip. “No, I just remembered I forgot to call Lexa.”

Raven quirks an eyebrow. “You were thinking of your own sister when we were making out? I know she’s hot but come on, I’m right here.”

She snorts. “Shut up.”

Raven sits up on her elbows. “I mean I’m not _into_ her but I’m not going to deny that – ”

“Oh my god stop.” Anya covers Raven’s mouth. “Don’t finish that sentence.” She reaches back and pulls her shirt down more before crawling off of Raven.

“Are you leaving?”

She opens the passenger door and climbs over the front seat and out of the car. “Yeah.”

Raven pops her head out of the car, following her. “Wait.” Anya looks over her shoulder as Raven emerges from the car fully. “Can I call you? Or text you?”

She knows exactly what she should say, but looking at Raven, her hoodie wrinkled and a few strands of hair out place, the feeling of her fingertips still ghosting over Anya’s spine, she can’t help herself.

“Yeah, okay.”

And when Raven smiles, the lightness in it making her own lips twitch skyward, she guesses it’s worth it.

She was never good at doing what she was supposed to anyway.

//

She likes running.

She appreciates the taut soreness that comes with it, the mindset of pushing herself, the control.

She hasn’t had a lot of things in her life that were completely under her control, especially her body. It always wants things it shouldn’t, demands the attention of a craving.

These are the things she thinks about when running, when her mind reaches that space where it separates itself from her body.

Today, she thinks about Raven.

Sweat drips down her spine and she thinks about Raven’s fingers touching the same place. She thinks about Raven’s laugh in her ear, her obnoxious smirk.

She wonders about the possibilities of continuing whatever it is they’re doing.

Why does her body always want things it shouldn’t?

She wishes it didn’t.

//

“You never told me what you do.” Raven takes a bite of salad, her voice low. At the other end of the table, Octavia and Clarke gossip about their friends Monty and Miller, while Lexa and Lincoln compare opinions about the Paleo diet. It’s fascinating stuff, as usual.  

The lie comes easily, the words familiar on her tongue. “I work in fitness. Personal trainer.”

Raven hums. “That makes sense.”

“Does it?”

“Sure,” Raven grins. “Hottie from the party had some serious muscle definition in that tank top.”

Anya can’t help it. She laughs. “And here I thought you were helping a drunk girl, all alone and in need of some water.”

Raven bumps their knees together under the table. “Of course I was, but I’m not blind.”

“Are you saying you wouldn’t like me if you only knew my personality?”

“Obviously.”

Anya rolls her eyes and digs her elbow into Raven’s arm. “How charming.”

Raven beams. “Charming enough to get you to come to my place for dinner tomorrow.”

She shouldn’t.

“Are you asking me?”

Raven’s smirk makes her heart beat just a little too fast. “How’s 6:30 sound?”

She shouldn’t.

“Yeah, okay.”

//

It’s not like she hasn’t dated in three years.

She just knows that it’s not the right time in her life to do anything more than date, and she always ends up breaking things off. She’s become an expert at pushing her feelings to the side. She’s not going to forever. It’s just not a good time right now.

But when ghosts from the present start overshadowing ghosts from the past, sometimes the lines between what she should do and what she wants to do begin to blur.

//

There’s something about Raven’s eyes that unsettles her. Sometimes they shine with a carefree playfulness, teasing and mischievous. 

But when Raven hovers above her in her half-lit bedroom, her skin hot against her own, they open with a grief all too familiar to Anya, like she’s looking into a mirror.

There’s something deeper there, like thunderstorms on ocean cliffs and nights without the moon.

It’s intriguing, and unsettling, and it haunts her when her thoughts slip away from her.

When Raven looks at her, she can’t look away.

//

The first morning she finds herself in Raven’s bed, skin sticky with sleep and sex, she feels a familiar twinge in her stomach that she should bail soon.

Raven wakes with a peaceful slowness, stretching to hold Anya tighter and sighing sleepily.

Anya’s enamored with the way she grumbles about waking up, with the softness of her hair against her shoulder, with the morning fog disappearing from her eyes.

Everything looks better when the sun comes up, and Raven is no exception.

She knows she shouldn’t, but she stays.

//

She justifies it to herself at night when she’s trying to sleep after a fight, her body aching and bruising, the ghost of Raven’s lips still fresh on her stomach from the nights she spent there that week.

She can keep them separate, she tells herself. Like the sun and the moon, existing in Anya’s orbit but always in completely different worlds.

Her brain reminds her that it doesn’t matter how far apart they are, that after a matter of time, there’s always an eclipse.

She ignores that thought, rolls onto her stomach, and falls asleep.

//

They’ve been doing this for a few months when she starts to acknowledge it to herself.

She doing the dishes after dinner at Lexa’s, the rest of the group having moved to the living room after Octavia challenged Raven to Mario Kart. Lexa leans up against the counter next to her.

Anya tosses her a towel, a wordless order to start drying.

“So you seem happier,” Lexa says after a minute of working in silence.

And they don’t talk like this, they never have. Clarke is the only person Lexa talks to like this, and Anya knows that’s partly her fault, knows that her four-year-long here-and-then-gone-again disappearing act took its toll on their relationship.

“I am,” she admits, her eyes involuntarily snapping to look into the living room. As if sensing she’s looking, Raven glances up. She smiles widely when their eyes meet and Anya smiles back, softer. She brings her attention back to the soapy water in the sink.

Lexa stares at her, her expression giving nothing away. “Do you think it’s going somewhere?” Her tone is light, and Anya hears the real question behind her words.

_Do you love her?_

“Yeah,” she answers. “I think so.”

Lexa smiles, her eyes taking on a sadness that Anya’s seen turned in her direction often. Lexa’s hand tentatively reaches out to squeeze Anya’s wrist before quickly pulling back.

She feels a wave of emotion swell up inside her, hating how Lexa can always make her feel a million things without actually saying anything.

They work for a few more minutes in silence, neither of them acknowledging the brief wetness in Anya’s eyes before she blinks it back.

//

She loses pretty badly one week in the winter.

Her pride gets the best of her and she taps out too late. Her ribs hurt, her face hurts. Everything aches.

The money she lost stings the most.

Raven texts her to come over. After one look in the mirror, she decides to fake sick for the week. Her forehead sports a nasty gash and her cheek is swollen and yellow. Concealer may be her best friend, but it’s far from perfect.

Raven tries to argue with her to let her come take care of her, but she says no, and Raven doesn’t know where she lives. There’s a day’s worth of radio silence after that.  She’d feel guiltier, but the need to keep her worlds apart is making her feel desperate.

She’s been thinking about it, turning it over in her head.

Five more months. She’s so close. If she can just make it until then, she can be free of Titus forever. She doesn’t know what she’ll do then, but she’ll figure something out.

Until then, she just has to hold on.

//

She makes it up to Raven with pizza and a movie that leads to them making out on the couch.

When they’re in bed later, Raven settles on Anya’s pillow, their noses almost touching. She traces her pointer finger over the healing scar on Anya’s forehead.

“Why do I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me?” Raven whispers.

Anya closes her eyes and says nothing.

“Anya.” Raven’s fingers splay across her cheek and Anya’s stomach flips at the way her name sounds closer to home on Raven’s tongue than anywhere she’s ever lived.

“I…” She hesitates. She knows she shouldn’t say anything, but she does anyway. Her chest feels tight. “I will. Just not yet.”

Raven’s thumb moves over her cheek gently. Anya opens her eyes, her gaze flicking back and forth between Raven’s irises. She has the distinct sense that Raven’s searching hers for something.

_And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you._

She can’t look away, but Raven kisses her lightly and sighs. Anya settles her head against Raven’s chest, appreciating the way Raven’s heart beats steadily.

“I love you,” Raven murmurs against her hair. “Nothing you say is going to change that.”

“Yeah, okay.”

She doesn’t say anything else for a bit. She just isn’t sure how someone can love her when she hasn’t told them anything about her, especially when that person is the only person she’s felt connected to in years.

“Raven,” she says after a little while, when Raven’s breath has evened and Anya isn’t sure if she’s awake or asleep.

“Hmm?”

“I love you, too.”

Raven holds her a little tighter, their legs tangling together under the sheets. “Yeah, okay,” she parrots back, her voice husky with almost-sleep. She feels Raven’s smile against her hair. “I mean duh, why wouldn’t you.”

Anya rolls her eyes, but presses a kiss into Raven’s chest.

She’s done a lot of things that have scared the shit out of her in her life, she just didn’t expect falling in love to be one of them.

//

Titus has a proposition for her the next time she meets up with him.

He’s taken an interest in her money source and has decided to place a few bets.

If she throws her fight on Friday, he’ll cut what she owes him in half. The offer is tempting, especially when that means she could be done with him in just a few more weeks, but her pride was always her biggest flaw, and throwing the fight means she’d have less money for herself.

She still needs something to pay her bills.

“No thanks,” she says, handing him the envelope with her current payout. “I’ll pass.”

“Not optional.” He counts what she’s given him, ignoring her defiance.

“Try me,” she spits back and walks away.

She’s been a slave to her debts and her body for so long, she’s not interested in letting go of the freedom she feels when she wins.

//

She wins the fights too easily and it leaves her off balance. As she’s collecting her money, she notices one of Titus’ clients in the crowd.

She grabs the money and runs.

//

She doesn’t make it far. They’re on her as soon as she’s down the street, dragging her into the alley behind the gas station. Its neon sign flashes weakly, and flickers out, mocking her attempts at escape.

Bursts of white light flash beneath her eyelids as a fist connects with her skull. She staggers backward, crying out in pain. Another punch hits her in the back of the head and she falls forward on her knees.

They take turns kicking her, and she starts to cough, vomit rising up in her throat. She groans when another foot connects solidly with her ribs and she feels a sharp pain shoot through her body.

She has a surge of panic that they might kill her, and her mind spins out in a thousand different directions, flashing from a memory of her and Lexa as kids to one of her running next to the ocean. The ghost of Raven’s eyes floats in front of her, close enough that if she were to reach out, she might fall into the abyss. 

She collapses.

It’s over a few minutes later when one of them spits in her face.

“Titus sends his thanks,” he growls.

She passes out.

//

She doesn’t know how long she’s out, but it’s still dark when she comes to. Everything hurts, but she forces herself to get up. She can’t open her right eye or stand up straight. She’s almost certain she has some broken ribs.

She leans her hand against a wall opposite the gas station, uncertain what to do.

Her fingers shake as she pulls her phone out of her pocket, her left eye squinting at the time. 3:30.

It’s late, but she does the only thing she can think of to do, pressing the call button and holding the phone up to her ear.

 _“Hello?”_ The voice on the other end rasps. _“Anya?”_

She wheezes out a deep breath.

_“Anya are you there?”_

She grits her teeth, forcing the words out. “Can you come get me?”

//

She hovers in the shadow of the alley until a car comes up and flashes its headlights in her direction. She limps out, her legs shaky and her side shooting pains throughout her entire body.

Clarke hops out of the passenger seat when she sees her and grabs her arm as she almost collapses against the side of the car.

“Oh my God.” Anya keeps her eyes closed. Everything hurts. “Who… Anya who _did_ this to you?”

She can’t say anything. She thinks she might throw up again.

“Clarke?” Lexa’s voice is softer, but urgent. The tone pulls at Anya, familiar and haunting.

“Okay, umm.” Clarke shifts so Anya’s arm is across her shoulders. “Anya we’re getting in okay?” She feels herself be lifted slightly and the best she can do to help is to make her body not a limp rag doll. She feels herself settle into the seat, her head on someone’s lap.

The car door closes and she feels the vehicle move. She’s having trouble breathing.

“Anya stay awake.” She feels fingers on the side of her face. “Lexa go to the hospital.”

There’s a pause. “Is she high, Clarke?”

“Anya, are you on any drugs?”

She tries to shake her head, but isn’t sure how effective she is. She doesn’t want to go to the hospital. She doesn’t have insurance.

“I…” Clarke’s voice is uncertain. “Okay. Go home. I have some stuff there and we can do a basic assessment and then decide.”

Anya feels slight relief until they go over a bump and pain shoots through her side. She groans.

“Anya stay awake, come on.”

She passes out.

//

There’s a sensation of someone pulling at the skin on her cheek and she tries to swat it, but she can’t. Someone’s holding her hand.

“I think she’s going to be okay,” a voice whispers. “She has severe bruising on her ribs, but I don’t think there’s any internal bleeding. She’s lucky they didn’t break anything.”

There’s silence for a few minutes while the tugging on her cheek continues. Then it stops.

“I’m going to make some tea.” Anya recognizes Lexa’s voice and the hand holding hers lets go.

“She’s going to be okay,” Clarke says. “She’s going to be okay.”

Anya drifts towards unconsciousness again, letting Clarke’s voice lull her into a restless sleep.

//

She dreams of Raven.

Her ghost walks with her along the beach. There’s nobody else around, just the two of them drifting across the sand. They don’t leave any footprints behind them.

“Do you need some help?” Raven asks her, and Anya scrunches her nose, confused.

“With what?”

Raven points and Anya follows her finger to her own hands, where she’s carrying a baggie of white powder. She holds it up, letting the sun filter through the plastic.

Anya shakes her head, uncertain. She opens the bag and dips her finger inside. The powder is rough and crystallized. She walks to the edge of the water, bending down as foam from a wave sweeps toward her feet. It looks soft.

She dumps the bag out into the water.

“You’re lucky you’re charming,” she tells the water, watching as it washes the powder away.

“Yeah, okay,” Raven replies, grabbing her hand.

“Let’s go home,” Anya says, and she wakes up.

//

She groans when she eases back into consciousness.

Her body feels like it’s in more pain now than it did when she was in the car before. She’s afraid to move, thinking any motion will put more pressure on some part of her that’s aching.

When she manages to open her eyes, she sees Lexa asleep in the chair across from her. Her neck is at an awkward angle and she’s pulled her legs beneath her in a way that doesn’t seem comfortable at all. Anya just looks at her for a little while, allowing guilt to swirl in her stomach like a sickness.

She has a sense of déjà vu, remembering another time she was in this exact position, but she was in a hospitable instead of on Lexa’s couch.

There’s a clatter from the kitchen, which she assumes to be Clarke, but she doesn’t move.

She’s afraid Lexa will wake up and then Anya will really have to confront her guilt.

“She tried to stay up,” Clarke says, noticing she’s awake when she comes into the room.

Anya just stares at her.

“She called off work.”

Anya bristles. “How long was I out?” Her throat scratches and she wishes she had some water.

“It’s been two days. You woke up a few times. Went to the bathroom.” Clarke’s eyes roam over her face and she stares back for a moment before giving in and looking away. “You want some water?”

She nods and Clarke goes and gets her a glass. She drinks it slowly, her throat still raw.

“Can I take a look at your stitches?” Clarke kneels on the floor next to her. She smiles softly when Anya looks at her questioningly. “Just three of them. You were bleeding pretty badly.” Clarke gestures towards her cheek and eventually she nods.

She closes her eyes as Clarke’s finger pull back a bandage on her cheek. The skin is tight and swollen and she barely even feels it. “Not too bad,” she says. “It’s healing fine.” Clarke hovers there and Anya senses she’s probably about to be interrogated.

Clarke surprises her, going in a different direction instead. “Lexa worries about you,” she murmurs, glancing over her shoulder at her girlfriend. “So do I.”

“I’m – ”Anya feels herself responding that she’s fine, but she’s not sure who that’s going to fool and she bites her tongue. “Dealing.”

“Who did this to you? Let us help you.” Clarke’s face almost breaks her heart, but there’s not a chance in hell she’s dragging them into this mess. She’s messed Lexa up enough. She doesn’t say anything.

Something buzzes and she looks toward the sound, seeing her phone plugged into Lexa’s charger on the coffee table.

“Raven,” Clarke says. “She’s been calling.”

Anya feels her stomach bottom out. “Don’t say anything,” she demands too quickly.

“I haven’t.” Clarke sighs and looks at her watch. “I have to get to the hospital. But you should talk to Lexa when she wakes up. And Raven.”

Clarke moves to leave and Anya grabs her wrist. She lets go immediately. “Thank you,” she whispers.

“Of course,” Clarke’s smile is sincere, but sad. “You’re family.”

She goes to work after that, leaving Anya with just a sleeping Lexa and her own thoughts.

//

 **Raven (Friday 11:35pm):** Babe, look at this car I worked on today. I’m in love

 **Raven (Friday 11:35pm):** [Attachment]

 **Raven (Saturday 9:42am):** Let’s go get brunch. I want mimosas

 **Raven (Saturday 1:17pm):** Okay, there is no way you’re still sleeping

 **Raven (Saturday 3:26pm):** Anya? Wtf where are you

**_Missed Call from Raven – Saturday 4:51pm_ **

**_Missed Call from Raven – Saturday 8:20pm_ **

**Raven (Today 10:07am):** Wtf is going on? Can you just let me know you’re not like dead or something

 **Raven (Today 1:14pm):** Seriously though, Anya please

 **Raven (Today 2:22pm):** I love you will you please fucking call me?

**_Missed Call from Raven – Today 3:24pm_ **

//

Lexa wakes up with a jolt, her body going rigid. Anya frowns, overcome with the desire to comfort her sister in some way, but unsure how to.

Or if Lexa even wants that from her.

“Just a dream,” she says softly.

Lexa settles, her eyes focusing over on the couch where Anya is. “You’re awake.”

They stare at each other for a moment, and she thinks of a thousand things she should say and a thousand and one reasons why she shouldn’t say them.

“I’m sorry,” is what she manages to get out.

Lexa looks at her, her eyes stoic and open. Anya hates it. She wishes Lexa would just yell at her, but she never has. It makes her feel like crap, knowing that Lexa has seen her at a place nobody should ever see their older sister, and yet she still loves her.

At least enough to come get her from a sketchy gas station at 4 in the morning. Enough to sit by her hospital bedside for three days as she shivers and vomits, sweats out a withdrawal she never thought she’d survive.

“I didn’t relapse,” she says, hoping to assure Lexa of at least that.

“I don’t understand this, Anya,” Lexa huffs, her voice cracking slightly. “What happened?”

“I’m sorry,” she repeats. She doesn’t know what else to say.

Lexa closes her eyes in frustration, her jaw shifting as she clenches it in anger. Anya watches her soften, tightening a leash on her emotions as they get away from her, and Anya hates that too, because she knows she’s the reason Lexa is like this.

If love was enough to hold up a relationship, then she’d be the best sister on the planet, but she’s lived enough to realize life doesn’t always work out that way.

She’s a crap sister, and she knows it.

Lexa doesn’t say anything, but she also doesn’t leave. She turns on the TV and they watch old CSI reruns in silence.

If the situation were any different, Anya would say that she wishes they hung out like this more often.

As it is, the thought feels inappropriate, and she keeps her mouth shut.

//

Clarke returns from her shift at the hospital later that evening.

She seems tired and Lexa jumps up to help her with the bags in her hands. Anya silently watches them move around each other comfortably. Clarke leans into Lexa for a moment, catching her breath, before kissing her lightly and muttering something about changing out of her scrubs.

She places a bottle of heavy duty painkillers on the side table near the couch, looking at Anya meaningfully before she disappears into her and Lexa’s room.

Lexa makes dinner and they eat it in the living room, making small talk about Clarke’s day at the hospital and how her Attending might let her lead a surgery tomorrow.

Anya’s never seen her sister smile so softly at another person and she feels like she’s intruding. It makes her stomach turn and her heart ache and she misses Raven.

She knows they could have what Clarke and Lexa have, but Raven’s been calling all day and Anya’s been ignoring her and she know Raven’s going to be pissed. But what can she say?

She’s been hiding for the six months they’ve been dating, and she already knows how it works.

If love was enough to hold up a relationship, then she’d be the best girlfriend on the planet, too. She has so much love, but she has no idea what she’s doing, and now more than ever, she knows that everything she’s ever wanted has never aligned with the things she should have.

She’s starting to think maybe it’s time she stops giving in and starts letting go.

//

She hangs around for another day, but she gets tired of Clarke’s hovering and Lexa’s eyes always heavy on her, watching and watching and watching.

She leaves when Clarke’s at work and Lexa’s in the shower, texting her sister that she’s going home and she’ll see her later in the week, probably.

When she’s walking into her apartment building, she sees one Titus’ clients from the other night sitting on the steps of the building across the street. He stares at her and holds up his phone.

She flips him off and storms inside, pissed that Titus is now monitoring her. If she doesn’t cooperate, it’s only a matter of time before they take another shot at her.

Her pride bristles and her stomach aches and she barely holds herself back from punching the wall.

She hates the day she met Titus more than she’s ever hated anything in her entire life.

//

She’s lying in bed willing the pain meds Clarke gave her to kick in when there’s a knock on the door.

She ignores it, thinking it’s that goon from outside, but they knock again.

“Anya! I know you’re in there.”

She shoots up in a panic.

“Anya, come on! I’m not leaving until you open the door.”

She pushes herself out of bed, ignoring the sudden throbbing in her side, and flings open the door.

“What are you doing here?” She hisses, grabbing Raven’s arm and dragging her into her apartment. She slams the door and puts the lock on. “Are you insane? How did you get my address?”

She doesn’t even look at Raven, shooting over to the window and peering through a crack in the blinds. The stairs across the street are empty, but that doesn’t mean Titus’ men aren’t still watching.

She thinks she might be sick.

“Anya, what the fuck? Where have you been?”

She barely hears what Raven is saying. What if they saw her? Do they know Raven’s connected to her? If she doesn’t cooperate with Titus, would he stoop low enough to go after anyone she cares about?

She doesn’t know, and it makes fear shoot through her. Her heartbeat feels like a drumroll in her chest.

“I’ve been trying to – ” Raven stops whatever she was saying, dropping her arms from where they were crossed tightly over her chest. “Are you okay? What… what happened to your face?”

Anya finally _sees_ her, taking in her wrinkled hoodie and the fire behind her eyes. She’s gorgeous and terrifying and Anya can’t breathe. “What?” Her hand automatically goes up to her cheek, knowing the skin around her eye is still slightly swollen and she still has the stitches Clarke gave her.

“What happened to your face?”

Anya grits her teeth, uncertain, and decides to ignore her. “How did you get my address? Did Clarke give it to you?”

Raven’s eyes flash in annoyance. “No, your sister did. She texted me.”

Anya purses her lips. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Seriously?” Raven scoffs. “Clearly, I should be. What is going on with you? You haven’t answered my calls in days and you look like you got hit by a truck! And now you’re trying to tell me that I shouldn’t be here, like it’s not totally fucking weird that we’ve been dating for six months and I had no idea where you lived until now!”

Anya exhales heavily and crosses her arms over her stomach. “I’m… private.”

Raven rolls her eyes like that isn’t the biggest bullshit she’s ever heard. “Please. There’s a difference between privacy and secrecy and I’m not a moron. You’ve been keeping shit from me this whole time! I thought it would be fine, like, I’m not going to pretend there isn’t shit I haven’t told you, but I thought you know, like, one day I _would_.” Raven’s shoulders sag slightly even as she juts her chin in the air in defiance. “I know I’m not the most open person, but you’re on another level completely. You’re like a ghost, Anya.”

Anya doesn’t know what to say because Raven’s right, but it’s not like she’s going to come clean now. Not after the other night. “I’m sorry, Raven.”

Raven rolls her eyes, looking like a firecracker ready to explode. “Yeah, okay. Look we’re all dealing with shit, but I thought me and you were trying that thing where we deal with ours together.” She gestures between them. “Or is that not what I love you means?”

“It’s just none of your business, okay?” She spits out, and then immediately winces, knowing it was the wrong thing to say.

Raven freezes, the fuse behind her anger going out. Her eyes turn on Anya, hard and cold, so different from the eyes that Anya loves, the ones that feel like _home_ and _safety_ and _I see who you are and I love you anyway_.

“Not my business,” Raven says evenly. “Okay. Fine.” She moves to leave and Anya panics, desperate and wanting, always wanting, wanting, wanting everything she shouldn’t.

“Raven.” She tries to grabs her arm, but Raven yanks away and opens the door.

“If you want your life to be my business then come find me, otherwise forget it. I can’t do this anymore.”

The door slams behind her and Anya flinches.

She sinks down onto her bed, her head falling into her hands and her stomach lurching. She’s furious, and anxious, and beyond terrified.

Raven is right.

She can’t do this anymore, either.

//

“Lexa!” She pounds on the door loudly, her desperation taking over.

The door swings open after a few seconds and her sister stands there, eyes wide in surprise, a spatula in hand. “Anya?”

She pushes her way into the apartment, barely noticing the smells of something cooking in the kitchen. Lexa closes the door and Anya turns on her.

“Did you tell Raven where I live?”

“Yes.” Lexa stares at her blankly.

Anya throws her arms in the air. “Why? You had no right to do that!”

Lexa hums, unfazed by Anya’s anger. “I’m tired of you doing this alone, and you clearly aren’t going to tell me about it. You never have.” She crosses her arms in front of her calmly and Anya bristles with anger.

She clenches her hands into fists, trying to stop herself from losing it. She’s been working for control for so long and she hates that it’s slipping.

 “Why does everyone want to stick their nose in my fucking business?”

Suddenly Lexa’s jaw clenches and Anya knows she’s hit a nerve. “You are my sister. You’re the only family I have, Anya!” Anya has a good two or three inches on Lexa, but suddenly she feels tiny. “I have tried to put my feelings aside for you to work through whatever it is you’re going through right now, but I am _tired_ of living every day in fear that you won’t come home again, or that you’ll overdose, or that I’m going to get a call in the middle of the night and you are going to be dead!”

Lexa composes herself, taking a deep breath as she takes a step in Anya’s direction. She’s suddenly aware of how mature Lexa is, how much pain she’s put her sister through.

“I am tired of seeing you unhappy.” Lexa puts a hand on her shoulder. “Let someone help you. If not me, then Raven. Or Clarke. I don’t care, I just want you to be safe.” Lexa swallows, her hand twitching. “I need you, Anya.”

Anya’s heart pangs, a deep ache that reverberates around her stomach. She deflates, and her arms come up around Lexa’s shoulders, squeezing her sister into a hug. Lexa stiffens and Anya wonders when the last time they hugged each other was. She doesn’t know.

“God, I must be the worst big sister on the planet.”

Lexa doesn’t deny it, but she eventually squeezes back. “You are still my sister.”

Anya pulls away, keeping Lexa at arm’s length. “I’m so sorry, Lex.” Lexa nods solemnly and Anya takes a deep breath. She wants to be here and she should be.

It’s time for her to fix this mess. She needs to be better.

For once maybe the things she wants to do and the things she should do are the same.

//

She goes to meet Titus, her hand curling around a blade in her pocket.

“I’m done,” she says. “Three more fights, win or lose, you call it, and I’ll do it. But then I’m done. I won’t owe you anything anymore.”

He tilts his head to the side, his expression soft and open and she wants to punch him. She hates that she ever fell for that.

Eventually he nods, and her grip around the blade relaxes.

“Very well.”

Anya almost sighs in relief. “If I do this, then you’ll leave me alone.”

The corners of his lips pull upward slightly. “That has always been my intention. We had a deal. Once you pay me what you owe me, I have no problem parting ways.”

“Good.” She holds her hand out and he clasps her forearm in agreement.

“I will be sad to see you go,” he says. “I always considered us family.”

She shakes her head, and turns to leave.

“I already have a family.”

//

She gives herself two weeks to heal and wins her next fight on Titus’ orders. She’s glad the girl she was up against seemed inexperienced. She’s a little rusty and Lincoln kept getting in some good hits when they trained earlier in the week.

She feels like she can barely breathe these days. She hasn’t talked to Raven since she stormed out and she’s not sure what Lexa told Clarke, but she feels like she’s walking on eggshells around them lately.

She just wants this to be over.

_Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster._

She’s afraid that she got so lost she didn’t realize that she was losing people other than herself along the way. She could’ve stopped herself from becoming a person she never wanted to be.

The thought is hard to swallow, but she knows now that she can still change paths.

Two more fights and she can be done with this life forever.

//

She’s supposed to lose her second to last fight.

It hurts her, bruises her pride as much as any punch would turn her skin black and blue, but she tells herself it’s worth it.

She gets in a good punch anyway, pretending to put up a fight. When her opponent hits her with a good left hook, she goes down. She pretends to struggle, but not enough that she’ll actually win, and in the moments before she’s going to tap out, she sees a familiar ghost in the crowd.

Raven’s eyes seek hers out, and Anya can’t tell if she’s really there or if she’s imagining it. She freezes, and it allows her opponent to get in a good kick to her side.

She groans, and taps out. Lifting her head, she tries to find Raven in the crowd again, but she’s vanished.

Among the cheers and boos of those watching, she manages to drag herself off of the ground, her head sweeping the mass of people. Just as she’s convinced herself that she’s going crazy, she spots a familiar ponytail disappearing between two large men cashing in on their bets.

Anya grabs her jacket and runs after her.

She jogs out of the warehouse, the night air hitting her face in a rush. She looks both ways, but feels the crash of disappointment in her ribcage when she doesn’t see Raven anywhere.

She turns to go back inside, but when she spins around, she freezes, coming face to face with the exact person she’s been looking for.

“Raven.”

She’s standing there, arms crossed and jaw clenched, looking like for the life of her she has no idea why she’s standing there.

Anya feels a familiar surge of panic in her chest, but she clamps it down. She’s one fight away from being free of this. Titus doesn’t care. As long as she follows through on her last fight, he has no reason to bother Raven at all.

“Did you follow me here?”

She wants to be mad, but Raven’s a foot away from her and Anya feels like for the first time in weeks she’s not off balance.

Raven juts her chin out. “I saw you earlier, when you were on your way here. And I…” Raven looks away briefly, grits her teeth, then looks Anya straight in the eye. “I didn’t follow you because I wanted to see where you were going. I just wanted to talk to you.”

Her eyes roam over Anya’s face and she selfishly thinks Raven might have missed her as much as she’s missed Raven.

“Okay,” Anya nods. “We can talk. But not here.”

//

She fumbles with the lock when they get back to her place, but Raven doesn’t say anything about it. Her fingers are shaking and she exhales heavily before she swings the door open.

She’s never willingly had anyone over to her apartment before and she’s nervous. It’s small and gross and she hates it.

She doesn’t have any furniture except her mattress, which is on the floor, and she knows it’s going to make it awkward for them to talk, but she figured if she was going to ask Raven to listen to her, then it was the first step in gaining any trust back.

“I’m sorry there’s not really anywhere to sit,” Anya says and pulls off her jacket.

Raven glances around and doesn’t say anything. Then she eases down onto Anya’s mattress and looks at her expectantly.

She paces back and forth a few steps, feeling out of sorts. She never feels like this. She’s never this nervous, or fidgety, but she’s also never really had to tell anyone about this part of her life before and she doesn’t know where to start.

She keeps trying to say something, but the words get stuck in her throat. She takes a deep breath and tries again. And again. And again.

She digs her nails into her palm. Breathes.

“Anya.” Raven’s face is turned down in discomfort, like Anya’s anxiety is causing her pain. “Why don’t you sit down?” She pats the mattress next to her. Anya hesitates before taking the place next to her.

“I’m sorry, I’m trying.”

“I know.” Raven faces her head on. “What if I asked questions, and you try to answer, and then if you’re feeling more comfortable, you can say what you’re trying to say?”

She twists her lips. Nods. “Yeah, okay.”

“Perfect.” Raven clears her throat. “First question: you still think I’m hot, yes or no?”

Anya blinks in surprise, then feels herself almost smile. She looks away. “Maybe.”

“That’s a yes.” Raven nods, a small smirk playing at her lips. “Second question: what is your favorite color?”

“Red,” she says automatically, thinking of a jacket that Raven wears sometimes. It has grease stains on it and always smells like the auto-shop. Anya loves it.

“Third question: what’s your middle name?”

Anya huffs in annoyance, her nervousness forgotten. “For the last time, I don’t have one.”

Raven sighs dramatically. “Everyone has a middle name, Anya!”

“No they don’t, Raven.”

“Fine,” Raven whines. “Fourth question.” She pauses, meeting Anya’s eyes. Anya swallows thickly. “The fighting you were doing tonight is illegal?”

Anya nods. “Yes.”

“And from what I can tell, you can make a lot of money if you win?”

She nods again. “Yes.” There’s a beat of silence and Anya hears the unasked question hanging in the air. “I don’t keep most of the money,” she admits. “I give it to Titus.”

Raven tilts her head to the side. “Who is Titus?”

Anya fidgets. She takes a deep breath. “He used to be my drug dealer.” She digs her fingernails into her palms again. “I, umm.” She takes another breath. “It’s kind of complicated. When I was younger, like eight or so years ago, I got in with a bad crowd.” Her stomach twists just thinking about it. She was so young and so stupid. “My parents had never really been around that much, and I spent a lot of time feeling like I was raising Lexa, and I was angry all the time because I didn’t get to be a kid.

“We were both in college when they died.” She pauses, feeling her chest get tight. She misses them, but not as much as she misses the idea of them. She’s always missed the idea of them. “I dropped out of school. Started hanging around with some bad people, Titus included.”

Raven grabs her hand and she realizes she was clenching her fingers into fists. She loosens them, and Raven slides her fingers between her shaking ones, squeezing.

“I, umm. Well. Drugs are expensive, so I started dealing for Titus to make some money. I would carry them across state lines for him, sometimes being gone for a few weeks at a time. Lexa didn’t like that.”

“Did she know?” Raven asks, her eyes still steady on Anya’s face.

She shakes her head. “Not… not yet.” Anya sighs. “Umm, so basically I was in a really bad place. But I did that for a few years, and I thought everything would be fine.” Raven squeezes her hand again. “It wasn’t fine, of course. I overdosed.” She closes her eyes as she’s done a million times since then, trying to remember, but she can’t. “I don’t know how I got to the hospital. Someone dropped me off. It might have been Titus,” she admits.

“They tried to ease me off the drugs, but the withdrawal was still a bitch.” She grits her teeth. “Honestly I thought I was going to die. I wanted to. Badly. But Lexa was right there the whole time. She just sat there, holding my hand and watching. Sometimes she would read out loud to me.” Anya smiles a little at that. “This one time, Lexa was reading to me, and this cute intern walked in to check on me, and Lexa stopped mid-sentence and just stared at her like she had seen God. Then she cleared her throat and tried to start reading again, but she kept stumbling over the words. And the intern leaned close to me and said ‘does she always read like that?’ and I said ‘only when there’s cute doctors around,’ and Lexa turned bright red. And then the intern smirked and said ‘well, I’m not a doctor yet, so I can’t afford much, but if she wants to go on a date, I would be very flattered.”

Raven rolls her eyes. “Jesus. It was Clarke. Of course it was. I knew they met at the hospital but God they are gross.”

“Yeah,” Anya grins a little. “Been together ever since.” She purses her lips. “And I’ve been clean ever since, too.”

Raven hums thoughtfully. “That doesn’t really explain the fighting thing.”

“Well. I got out of the hospital. I had no money, no place to live. No job. I didn’t really know what to do. I kind of panicked. Broke into Titus’ house. Stole a shit ton of drugs and all the money from his safe.” She bites her lip, remembering. “I was stupid and I sold it to one of his usual buyers. Titus caught up with me, but I had already spent all his money trying to find a place to live while I looked for a job. He said if I didn’t pay him back immediately then, well…” She trails off. She doesn’t want to say it.

“We, umm. We cut a deal. I could pay him back in increments, plus interest. But the amount he wanted wasn’t something I could just come up with every month. I didn’t know what to do. One of my friends from Titus’ group told me about the underground circle. I was just scrappy enough to win enough for the first month. I told myself I would look for something else, but.” She sighs. “I kind of liked it. I started training, and I got good, so I just kept going back.”

She meets Raven’s eyes. “I’m quitting though. I don’t owe Titus anymore. I have just one more fight and then I’m done with him.” She nods resolutely. “Forever.”

Raven twists her lips. “Then what?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I’ll figure something out. Move in with Lexa and Clarke. Get a job. Maybe I’ll finish my degree. It was in Classics. I kind of miss it.”

Raven nods thoughtfully. Then she smiles. “Nerd.”

She rolls her eyes. “Shut up.”

Raven takes a deep breath, her eyes focused on their clasped hands. “I haven’t talked to my mom in ten years,” she says eventually.

“That’s a long time.”

Raven shrugs. “She’s a piece of shit.” Raven grimaces. “She also was on drugs a lot, never around. Kind of abusive. One day my senior year, I just had enough. Moved in with Octavia and Bellamy and never looked back.”

Anya swallows the shame she feels, sympathy for Raven flooding her chest. “I’m sorry, Raven.”

“It’s fine,” Raven says, and it seems like she means it. “It’s not the same maybe, but like I said, we all have shit we’re dealing with.” She meets Anya’s eyes, her own dark and thoughtful. “Maybe we could try dealing with ours together.”

Hope springs to life in Anya’s chest, bright and beautiful. Her throat feels thick and she tries to say something, but she can’t. She nods. Raven brings their clasped hands to her lips and kisses her fingers.

“Yeah?” She says.

“Yeah,” Anya repeats. “Okay.”

Her eyes are tearing up and she wishes they weren’t but she hasn’t really cried in so long and everything is just so _much_.

Raven lies down on her pillow, pulling Anya after her. She settles against Raven’s chest, and she’s sure she getting her shirt wet, but for once in her life something she’s wanted is right there for her to hold.

//

Raven offers to give her some money so she can back out of the last fight, but she feels like she needs to do this.

For closure, or because she paid back all of it by herself and doesn’t want to stop now, she’s not sure. Both probably.

And if she enjoys it a little bit, well, there’s that, too.

Titus wants her to win, and she figures she might as well go out swinging.

//

She tries to get Raven not to come, but Raven is the most stubborn person she’s ever met, and now that she knows where Anya’s going, there’s not really any use in stopping her.

“Please, just don’t talk to anyone,” Anya says for the fifth time as they’re on their way. “And if Damian, that’s the gross guy with the mullet, talks to you, just leave, okay? I’ll be out in an hourish.”

“Anya,” Raven sighs, pulling on her hand as they’re about to go in. “I’ll be fine. I’m more worried about you.”

Anya rolls her eyes. “Well I also am going to be fine. I’ve been doing this for a while now. I can handle myself.”

“I know, but last time – ”

“Last time I lost on purpose,” she interrupts. “Tonight I’m going to win.”

“Well that’s cocky.”

“Raven.”

“I’m just saying –”

She brings their lips together, cutting her off. It gets Anya’s blood pumping, her heartbeat kickstarting. Raven sighs slightly, her hand coming up to Anya’s cheek and pushing her back against the wall of the warehouse. They kiss for a minute before Anya leans back.

“Okay, I have to go.”

“Wait,” Raven says, standing on her tip toes to give Anya one last kiss.

She quirks her eyebrows and Raven shrugs.

“For good luck.”

She rolls her eyes again and leads them into the building. She drops Raven’s hand to go get ready.  “I don’t need luck.”

“Well,” Raven says, crossing her arms and dragging her eyes up Anya’s retreating body. “It can’t hurt.”

//

She wins.

She knows she’s going to as soon as she lands her first punch. Adrenaline pumps through her veins and she can see all of her opponent’s moves before she makes them, and she blocks them relatively easily. The woman gets in one good punch to Anya’s cheek, but she was able to side step it to take away some of the force.

It’s over in a few minutes, and Anya’s chest heaves as the moderator lifts her arm in the air. She spits out her mouth guard and smiles.

She collects her money, and moves through the crowd. Panic erupts in her chest when she can’t find Raven, but then someone tugs on her arm, pulling her out of the mass of people gearing up for the next fight.

Lips are on hers in a second, Raven’s hand behind her neck pulling her down.

She laughs against Raven’s mouth.

“Hello to you, too.”

“Shut up and kiss me, please.”

Anya leans down, her arms sliding around Raven’s hips. “Please? Wow, I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you use that word.”

“Anya,” Raven whines, standing on her tip toes.

She grins again and brings their lips together for a moment. Then she leans back again.

“I have to give this money to Titus.” Raven scowls, but doesn’t say anything, and Anya grabs her hand. “It’ll be fine, come on.”

He’s waiting for her by the wall they’ve dubbed as their meeting place. He stands stoically, his hands clasped behind his back, watching. Raven glares when they approach him and he studies them curiously.

“I didn’t know you were dating anyone, Anya.”

She ignores him. “Here’s your money.” She hands it to him and fixes him with her hardest expression. “We’re done now.”

He counts it, then nods. “Of course. That was our deal.” He smiles at her gently. “And there will always be an opening for you, if you care to join the business again.”

Raven shifts next to her. “Listen here, cue ball – ”

“No thank you,” Anya interrupts, tugging on Raven’s hand. She grumbles angrily. “Goodbye, Titus.”

He nods at her and she pulls Raven away, having no intention of looking at his face ever again. When they get outside, she inhales deeply, feeling a rush of happiness flood through her.

She never has to see him again.

She’s free.

“That guy gives me the creeps,” Raven mutters. “Does he shave his head or is he just bald?”

Anya snorts. “I don’t care. I don’t want to think about him ever again.” She sighs. “I just want to put some ice on my cheek and go to sleep. Can we do that?”

Raven smirks at her. “Hmm. Yeah, okay.”

“Yeah,” Anya repeats. “Okay.”

“Not to encourage you or anything, like I support your decision, babe, but that fighting stuff was kind of hot.” Raven grabs her hand again, pulling her away from the warehouse. “Maybe you should teach boxing or something.”

Anya feels a laugh bubble up her throat. “Okay.”

She doesn’t know what she’s going to do, but the world is full of possibilities.

“Nice,” Raven grins. “Hey, Anya?” Her voice takes on a serious tone and Anya squeezes her hand.

“Yeah?”

“Can I see your abs when we get home?”

Anya rolls her eyes but can’t help the smile on her lips as Raven laughs and laughs all the way home.

//

**One Month Later**

Anya sinks lower into her stance, her knees shoulder width apart and eyes on the girl across from her. Lifting her arm, she pulls back and –

“Pow!” She says, punching the air next to Raven. “And _that’s_ how you punch someone. Not what you were doing before. You’re going to break your fingers.”

Raven rolls her eyes. “I was doing it right.”

“You weren’t.”

“Yes, I _was_.”

“No – ”

“Guys!” Clarke sighs, dropping the box she was carrying on the floor. “Are you going to help or are you just going to bicker?”

Raven leans over to look at the doorway where Lincoln and Lexa are both carrying in another box. “Nah, I think you guys got it.”

Lincoln grins as he sets his box down. “She’s actually right, Clarke, that’s everything.”

“Wow,” Clarke says, looking around Raven’s place. “Guess you’re all moved in then, Anya. Congratulations.”

Anya rolls her eyes, but feels a smile tugging at her lips. She bites the inside of her cheek to keep it in. “Well, for now. Until I get sick of this one.” She jabs her finger in Raven’s direction.

“You? Get sick of me?” Raven scoffs. “Please, I bet I get sick of your sweaty gym gear in two days. Who knew dating a personal trainer would be so gross.”

Lincoln grins at her. “Comes with the territory, I guess. Anya is the best employee a guy could have.”

“Hey.” Raven warns. “Those abs belong to me.”

Lexa snorts, but tries to cover it with her hand. They all stare at her. “Sorry, that’s just. That’s my sister. It’s gross.”

“Yeah, but,” Anya slings her arm around her sister’s shoulders. “You totally love me.”

Lexa’s smile is small, but genuine. “Yes.”

“Okay, _this_ is gross.” Raven shakes her head and feigns disgust. “You saps. I want pizza.”

They all agree and start to shuffle out of the apartment. Anya grabs her keys, bracing herself as Raven jumps on her back. “Carry me, I’m weak with hunger.”

She sighs, hefting Raven farther up on her back. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“Yes,” Raven says, placing a kiss on her cheek. “Yes I am. And you’re lucky I love you because your gym clothes really do smell.”

Anya rolls her eyes, but can’t help but agree. She’s very lucky.

As they all slide into a booth at the pizza place, Clarke and Lexa across from her and Raven’s hand finding hers under the table, she realizes she finally has everything she’s ever wanted and needed, all in one place.

**Author's Note:**

> I see all your comments, but if you want me to reply or just wanna scream about the good ship Ranya, then hmu on tumblr at emilyjunklegacy


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